I Believe in Sherlock holmes
by LovelyFangirls
Summary: Hehe My first chapter worthy Johnlock please be kind. After Sherlock jumps off the building of St. Barts, John goes through a lot of tough situations but... does Mycroft have a trick up his sleeve? Something is being kept a secret. John's made a new... friend? Rated M for sexy time. Please leave a comment. I get worried that maybe I'm not doing a good job.
1. The Start of Something New

_You need to get over Sherlock….._

_He's not coming back….._

_Everyone is worried about you….._

It had been months since Sherlock took the dreaded fall off of that building, but the image was still fresh in John's mind. The blood pooling around his face after he'd made contact with the cement, and his hair wet and stained with it made an image in his head that left John tearing up.

"I won't just forget him you know." John was sitting in a posh leather chair in a posh room of a posh building.

So naturally he was sitting and talking with Mycroft.

"My brother… Is gone John." Mycroft fiddled with his cane, "My people have still been watching you, you're aware of that correct?"

John looked rather irritated, "So? I really don't see how that's- any different… "John paused, "From how it used to be."

Mycroft leaned in "You are hurting yourself John Watson. The people around you are noticing it too."

"I don't care."

"You should!" Mycroft collected himself once more and handed John a paper with an address, "At least go this man? He's recently been called for duty in which case he can't inform his family. He needs support from someone who understands loss. I'd hoped you two could sympathize with one another. I believe he actually knows you already."

John folded the envelope over in his hands then slipped it into his pocket. "I'll see him later."

"John. You're not fooling anyone. If you don't go I will use force."

"Why are you going so bloody far Mycroft?" John's tone had been raised with a little anger now.

John stirred in his seat as Mycroft stood. "Do you think Sherlock would have wanted you to be like this?"

John looked down at the floor.

"You're going to develop another fake limp Doctor Watson if you continue to wallow in self-pity as you have before. Sherlock is gone."

John stood. "You may be the bloody government Mycroft, but I, do _not_..." John moved his face closer to the eldest Holmes and angrily spat, "answer to you."

John turned to leave, but his wrist was caught before he had the chance, "I know what Sherlock meant to you John. I know what you didn't tell him."

John froze.

"You and him we're something like that correct?"

"Shut up Mycroft. I swear to god I'll hit you." John didn't even turn to look at him.

"John-"

"Don't!" John twisted his arm free of Mycroft's grip.

Mycroft dropped his cane to the ground and took hold of John's shoulders, spinning him around and grabbing onto his wrists, holding them up to shoulder level. "Forget about him!"

"Stop it Mycroft! I won't!"

Mycroft pulled him in with force and planted a kiss on him. John squished his eyelids shut in displeasure and struggled with greater force to get free. Mycroft broke apart for a second allowing John to cry out, "No! Mycr-" his voice was muffled by another kiss. Mycroft dropped his arms around John's waist and pulled him in, trapping his arms between their chests. John only struggled more.

John finally managed to get an arm free. He pulled it back with force and threw a hard punch at Mycroft's head, hitting him right in the eye. Mycroft pulled back, moaning and holding a hand to his eye. John used his sleeve to wipe his mouth clean and then with anger, started towards the large door across the room. "You idiot!" he yelled back with complete disgust in his tone.

John looked back for only a second, his eyes filled with rage, then turned towards the door, slamming it shut as he left. Mycroft sighed with grief then opened his phone and started to fiddle with the keyboard.

_**I talked with John, seems he's still hung up on it.**_

_**I don't think he'll be changing his mind anytime soon.**_

–_**MH**_

Mycroft flipped open the phone again after the buzzing pulsed through his hand. He looked at the screen, his expression gradually changing to anger then kicked at the desk nearby. "Damn it! Don't hack into my security cameras!" Mycroft raised his hand to his face and rubbed at his eye, cringing with displeasure and looking towards the camera in the corner of the room.

_**No… I should think not. By the way, you should probably put some ice on that eye. **_

_**If you touch John again, I promise it'll be worse than a black eye.**_

–_**SH**_

John sat near the window, settling down with a cup of tea. He looked out onto the street, watching people go by smiling. Girlfriends clinging to their boyfriends and Mothers holding the hands of their children, a man was delivering packages, a woman was talking on her phone, everyone was very normal. How could they all be so normal? Sherlock was gone. Nothing was the same.

John sat back, letting his head fall against the back on the chair. He shut his eyes and let out a long breath. It was hard enough that Sherlock was gone, but now Mycroft had started flirting with John. At first it was just an occasional passionate word, or a light touch but recently it was getting worse. Why couldn't Sherlock have been-

John drew up his knees and laid his head against them, "Oh Sherlock…"

John walked up to the crummy looking flat Mycroft had given him the address to. As much as he didn't like Mycroft, this man needed someone who knew what he was feeling. John probably did too. The loss of a loved one could be hard. This man was going away and couldn't tell his family about it for the sake of their safety. He was going to be leaving his mother and two sisters behind, a blood tie, and he couldn't even tell them. Must be dreadful John thought.

He drew in a sharp breath as he rang the doorbell. "Hello? My name is John. Mycroft sent me."

The door opened, and a tall man stepped out. John ended up comparing his height to Sherlock and found they were around the same height, but Sherlock was probably a bit taller. His hair was black and short. It was thick and a little choppy. He was very handsome, looking at John with hazel eyes.

"Ahh yeah… come on in. I don't think anybody's home right now." He spoke, ushering John in.

"Thank you. Sorry that you have to talk with a complete stranger."

"Complete stranger?" The man looked at him with a little distress.

"Are we not strangers?"

The man looked down at the floor a little flushed. Then he got up, and walked over to the tea set sitting on the table across the room, pouring tea into a cup and walking back. He handed it to John.

"Oh… I'm sorry I like my tea a funny way so-"

"Two creams, two sugars, a teaspoon of honey and a pinch of scotch." The man smiled and continued to hold out the cup to John.

John looked astonished. He took the sup and carefully took a sip. "Th-thank you… You apparently know me, but I'm sorry, I don't remember you."

"That's fine; you're always looking at your phone when you order, so it's no big surprise. My name is-"

"Eric!" John finished his sentence for him, "You're the nice man who serves me tea at Tea and Country right?"

Eric looked at him, flushed once again. "Yeah. Glad you remembered." He smiled.

For the next hour the two sat around, drinking tea and talking. They laughed, cried, and hugged a few times. John felt at ease and a lot more relaxed then he'd been in a long time. He felt good. John smiled as she put his coat on, ready to leave.

"Will you exchange letters with me?" Eric managed to let out before John had his hand on the handle of the door. John looked back.

He smiled. "Sure thing."

And with that, John left the flat, smiling like he hadn't since who knows when.

It had been many months since Eric had left, they'd sent many letters back and forth and John was feeling more and more close to Eric as time went by. They wrote about trivial things sometimes, and wrote about import things other times. It was some of the best memories john had since Sherlock died. But it had been a while since Eric's last letter, and John was getting worried. This was some dangerous mission he was on for Mycroft. Was he alright?

John sat around just waiting for another letter to come in.

"John! Dear are you home? You've got a delivery! I'll leave it by the door but you should get them quickly before they start to wilt. Very pretty they are." Mrs. Hudson communicated to John through the door.

Very pretty? Wilt? Flowers. Wait… flowers?

John rushed over to the door, fumbling with the handle. John stared down at the small bouquet propped up in the doorway. Reaching down to scoop them up, John noticed the small card planted in between some of the roses. It was a handwritten note. There were a lot of marks as if the sender had erased it many times. John studied the note closer…

I'm sorry John. I hope you can forgive me.

Sorry? Who? John looked at the handwriting again. The flowers dropped to the floor along with the note. John ran down to Mrs. Hudson's flat yelling and pounding at the door, "Mrs. Hudson! Who left the flowers?! Did you see Mrs. Hudson? Mrs. Hudson!" John pleaded and begged until the door finally opened.

"Oh dear… Sherlock you've really made a mess of things!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed stepping out first, and heading for the front door. "You had better apologize!"

John stood in the doorway, dumbfound. Standing a short way away from him, was his flat mate. Showy cheek bones, blue scarf, and his amazing hair. Sherlock was standing in front of John, completely alright.

"John…"said the familiar and warm voice.


	2. Reunited

John hadn't slept this good since before the war. In shock John sat up quickly from the bed. Who's bed? John was lying in Sherlock's bed and found himself blushing. He thought back. All he could remember was tackling Sherlock after finding out he was alive. SHERLOCK!

"Sherlock?! Sherlock**! **_**Sherlock!**_" John was kicking the blanket off himself and frantically trying to reach the door.

It was opened before he had the chance.

"John what is it? Are you alright?" Sherlock was helping John straighten up.

"I-I'm fine… yu-you… you…"

"_**John?!**_"

John couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Yu-you… you were… you…"

Sherlock took hold of John in a warm embrace. "It's ok John just calm down."

"Yu-yu-you… you're alive!"

"I'm alive."

"_**You bastard!"**_ John pushed back from Sherlock and hit him hard.

Sherlock moaned a little but ended up smiling. He straightened himself up and laid a hand on his throbbing gut. "You still pack a punch I see."

John's angry face grew soft and happy. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and smothering his head in Sherlock's chest. "You're alive…" he was crying of happiness this time.

Sherlock wrapped his own arms around John's lower back and squeezed. "You fell asleep on me after you jumped me yesterday… It looked like you hadn't slept in weeks."

John looked flustered. "S-Sorry."

"It's fine."

Neither moved. Both were just happy standing like that. When the door opened, both sadly withdrew. John felt the absence of Sherlock's warmth and frowned a little. In the doorway stood Mycroft.

"Ahh Mycroft. You finally showed up."

"Well I had thought you would tell him around this point in time, brother dear."

"Wait… You knew Mycroft?" John asked, clearly upset.

"Yes I was made aware."

John started towards Mycroft, ready to punch him a second time. Sherlock grabbed his arm before he'd had the chance. Mycroft had been advancing on him trying to tell him to forget about Sherlock when he was still living. John was furious, but still blushing a little.

Sherlock noticed.

"I forgot to pay you back for taking care of John in my absence Mycroft." Sherlock said with tone, taking a step towards his semi-frightened looking brother.

"Ahh…" Mycroft took a step back as Sherlock took another one forward. "That's alright I don't want it."

"Oh I think you do."

"Sherlock?" John was confused.

"Ahh that's right John" Mycroft swished past Sherlock and close to John. "Here you are."

Mycroft handed John a white envelope with his name printed over the front. Sherlock studied the envelope with a puzzled look.

"How's he doing?"

"I believe your letters… lifted his spirits you could say."

John rubbed his hand along the letter again, smiling. He flipped it over and started to tare open the case. "I'll be right back Sherlock." John paused. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock again. "I'm glad you're back. Don't go anywhere, ok?"

"I promise."

John scurried off to his bedroom, softly shutting the door behind him. Mycroft turned towards the front door, starting to leave as Sherlock too hold of his shoulder.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Well, you would know a thing or two about that wouldn't you? Or did you not tell John yet?"

Sherlock looked at his brother with anger blazing in hi blue eyes. "No, I haven't."

"I see. Then I suppose it's only a matter of time."

John opened the letter and unfolded the crisp white paper.

_Dearest John,_

_I'm sorry this letter was rather late, I got a bit of an injury the other day but I'm alright, you should know being an army doctor, there is such a big fuss over little things. Turns out, I'll be out in a few weeks. I hope I can see you again when I get back. Maybe we could meet at that new restaurant you spoke of? The pasta sounds good. I miss good meals. Things are still moving along slowly and I don't know if it's going to get much better, but everyone is telling me I look happy. I think that's thanks to you. Thank you for everything John. I can't wait to see you._

_Forever yours, Eric_

John smiled and closed the letter. He sat down at the desk in his room, picked up a pen, and wrote back in the same fashion as always. John didn't mention Sherlock's return. He thought it might hurt him a little to know that John's loved one had come back. Maybe he'd think there wasn't much of a connection between them anymore.

Sherlock stood in the doorway, careful to be quiet and watched as John wrote a letter to a mysterious man. He was writing a letter to the man who'd been taking care of John in Sherlock's place for the last eight months.


	3. Mine

John dragged his feet along the floor as he headed for the kitchen. He yawned sleepily and rubbed his eyes. It was a regular morning, but it was so much better than it used to be. John smiled when he saw Sherlock standing near the counter in the kitchen, two cups of coffee sitting out in front of him.

"You're finally up."

"Yeah- what do you mean finally? It's only nine!"

"I've been up for hours."

"Well us humans need to sleep you know…"

Sherlock looked sternly at John, making him feel a little regretful having said that. Sherlock only turned his head back to his coffee and took a quick gulp of it.

"S-sorry…"

"It's fine. I know you didn't think before you spoke."

John cocked his head, a little dissatisfied with that. Still the same old jerk. John smiled to himself, causing Sherlock to look at him questioningly again. John picked up the extra coffee from the counter and took a long sip. "Hah~" John let out a satisfying breath.

Sherlock half smiled, but only for a second. It was the familiar little tweak across his mouth John had remembered seeing so often. It was a regular morning, but it was so much better than it used to be.

After a few more days of random and warm nothingness, the door opened and in walked Mycroft.

The new letter had arrived from Eric. He was going to be coming back very soon, and had asked John to clear a day so they could meet up at the little restaurant they'd kept talking about. John had walked over to the calendar hung up on the wall in his room and marked the day with a red sharpie, doodling in a little plate of pasta with a cute little fork for fun.

This shouldn't have bothered Sherlock.

John started marking off the days until they would meet. He'd called ahead to reserve a table near the window so they could look out into the street as they ate. John had also looked over the menu many times, wondering what he should order, taking into consideration that Eric wanted to get the pasta John had wrote about in his letters.

This shouldn't have bothered Sherlock.

The day of the meeting, John started to get ready early, going through different shirts and pants, combining different outfits to look his best. Then John had styled his hair over and over, looking for the perfect style to match.

This shouldn't have bothered Sherlock.

When John finally left, the room felt cold and empty to Sherlock. The lights seemed more dim and the smells coming up from his experiments more foul. John hadn't hugged or really said much to Sherlock when he was leaving. He'd just said I'm going out, rushing out the door with a smile on his face.

That shouldn't have bothered Sherlock…

But it did.

"John!" Eric ran up to John, who was standing outside the door of the small Italian restaurant.

Eric wrapped his arms around John and held rather tightly, nuzzling his face into John's neck. John felt pleased by his warmth.

"Good to be home?" John asked.

"Wonderful! I went home yesterday, everyone was crying and hugging."

"Well I'm glad you're home safe Eric." John drew back.

Eric perked up and opened the door to the restaurant and holding the door open for John. "Hungry?"

"Starving!" John let Eric hold the door open for him as they entered.

As they sat down at a table near the window, Eric ordered the pasta John had told him about. John laughed with Eric. They talked about war and they talked about the recent news about London. They talked about many things, laughing and smiling. They stopped only to eat a few bites of their food every now and then. John was happy.

Who could have possibly noticed the tall figure standing across the street, looking into the window of the little Italian restaurant with sad eyes?


	4. How Was Your Date?

"_**How was your date?"**_

Those four little words sent the whole relationship between John and Sherlock spinning out of control.

"Well thank you for the lovely time tonight."

"You're leaving?"

"We'll we've been here since dinner having drinks and talking. As much as I've loved it, it's nearly two Eric. I need to get home or else he'll-"

"He'll?"

"Ahh yes. Sherlock…"

"Sherlock? I thought you said he died."

"I thought he did. He came back." John smiled sadly. "Sorry I didn't tell you, I thought it might make you hate me and you wouldn't want to come meet me anymore. I thought maybe we'd lose our connection… and I didn't really want that."

"So… you are reunited huh? That's-"

"I'm sorry Eric."

John stood, grabbing his coat from off the chair and practically running out the door.

"John!"

When Eric finally managed to catch up with John, he grabbed his wrist, forcing John to face him. John tried to push him away, "Eric I-"John could hardly speak with the tears falling down his face and his voice catching every time he tried to say something.

"You haven't even heard what I was going to say!" Eric tried to calm John down.

"No! I don't want to! I had such a good time, and you were so kind when there was no one for me! I-"

Eric pulled John into his arms. The hug was warm and kind. "I like you John! Why would I tell you to go now? You've been reunited right? That's not a bad thing so a friend should be happy for you right?"

"Eric…" John drew back a little so he could look at him, "I like you too. I'm glad we're friends."

"That's the problem." Eric looked very serious, "I like you a lot John."

"I like you too-"

"That's not what I mean!" Eric cupped his hands around John's face and kissed him. This kiss was different from the one Mycroft had forced on his before. This kiss was warm and caring. It felt good.

Eric drew back and hugged John again. "A _friend_ should be happy you've been reunited with him. I'm not happy at all… I'm angry in fact. He means more than a friend to you right? It makes me mad…"

"_**I wish he would disappear again…"**_

Sherlock was sitting… Well, he was slumped into the large chair that sat facing the fireplace. By two am John still wasn't back yet. Sherlock has the lights off. His violin was rested comfortably against his shoulder, a sad and lonely tune he'd composed himself playing through the strip of strings and wires. When John finally came through the door and the lights flickered on, Sherlock stopped playing and stood. He was ever so eager to see what happened.

Shirt buttoned up all the way, it'd never come off. His hair was straight, recently combed. His face was- John's face couldn't be seen. He'd made sure Sherlock couldn't see it. In face he hadn't been able to look him in the eyes since he'd come in. Sherlock stopped observing John as soon as he placed his fingers on his lips. His hot lips. Something in Sherlock snapped with great force.

"_**How was your date?"**_


	5. The Wrong Choice

"Sherlock! It wasn't like that!" John was clinging onto Sherlock's coat.

Sherlock didn't say a word. He could see just how desperate John was feeling, but he really didn't care. It wasn't his business anyway. It was all fine, and he was married to his work.

"We weren't on a date Sherlock!"

"Its two AM John." Sherlock wouldn't look at John.

"I know! We were just having drinks and lost track of time!"

Sherlock still wouldn't look at him. Sherlock _couldn't_ look at him.

"Sherlock-"

"That's enough John."

"Sher-"

"I said that's enough!" Sherlock shook John off of his sleeve and angrily stomped into his bedroom, but of course he wasn't bothered. It wasn't his business, and he was married to his work.

"Sherlock!"

The door slammed shut and John was left alone stranded in the middle of the room. He felt alone and disgusting. For the first time in a long while, John wanted to cry.

John walked along the street, carrying a bag full of groceries he'd purchased from the market. His face was long and sad. People didn't tend to really stop and ask if someone was ok now days it seemed. John sighed and looked up at the sky, using his free hand to shade his eyes from the sunlight.

John loved to see the sun when it was out. In London there's so much fog and clouds covering the sun. He smiled a sad smile, trying to be happier.

"John!" A familiar voice rang.

Eric was running up the street, trying to catch up to John. John didn't know if he really wanted to see Eric, but it wasn't really his fault.

"Ah… Eric…"

"S-Sorry… did you not want to see me?"

Busted…

"Ahh no it's fine. It's just that-"

"Sherlock found out didn't he?" Eric and John were walking at the same pace now, side by side.

"Yeah… he did. He said It didn't bother him and that it was 'all fine' but…"

"Here let me take that." Eric reached out for John's bag of goodies in a kind gesture.

"I-it's fine really!" John tried to protest as the bag was taken from his hand.

"I'm just being friendly." Eric smiled a warm and happy smile.

John just looked at him sadly. "Thank you."

"John. Are you and Sherlock together?"

"Huh?"

"I mean… I know you like him, but what does he think about you? Are you two... you know, together?"

John drooped his head down and watched his feet as he walked. "No."

"Oh. I'm sorry then."

"No you're not." John chuckled.

"Busted huh?"

"Oh yeah."

The two laughed a little bit as they walked. John felt a little better. Eric seemed to be very good at cheering him up. He'd cheered him up when he'd lost Sherlock. He'd cheered him up after Sherlock had come back. Now he was cheering him up when Sherlock…

When Sherlock…

John carried in the groceries and frowned. Did Sherlock always make him miserable? Every time Sherlock made him feel bad Eric would cheer him up. Even when he'd gone to get coffee or tea before Eric had gone. Why did he have to like Sherlock? Why couldn't he just like Eric and let that be the end of it? It would have been so much easier for everyone. Sherlock didn't care either way.

John felt a few tears cloud up his eyes and his lip start to quiver. John bit it harshly, trying to toughen it out. He was strong after all. So he decided.

** John would go out with Eric **


	6. Defeat

Two weeks. Two weeks of going out with Eric.

Eric had taken John out to a movie, an American play that was sold out, and a few restaurants during this small period of time. Today he was more bold. Eric would occasionally wish John a goodnight when they reached the door to his flat with a little peck on the cheek, or sometimes a small kiss on his lips. He'd asked to hold hands on the way home with him once. John couldn't find much of a reason to refuse, so he'd said yes. Like I said, today he was more bold.

John talked about Sherlock a lot and had talked with Eric over dinner about the new case he was working on. Eric listened intently as he talked about how Sherlock was always coming home early in the morning and other things about the case. Eric didn't forget that part.

"Would you mind if I came in for a cup of tea?" Eric asked politely. "I'm pretty thirsty after that movie."

"I offered to share my drink with you!" John playfully stated.

Eric shrugged. "Well then I guess I'll just leave... My boyfriend has cruely cast me out... won't even let me in for a cup of tea..." Eric delayed his departure in a humorous tone, slowly stepping away.

"Alright you fool." John unlocked the door and let him in.

Mistake number one.

John walked into the kitchen and immediately started pouring water into a kettle to start the hot water. He had his back to Eric.

Mistake number two.

As Eric ran his hands along John's sides, he nuzzled his nose into John's neck, leaning his head against his. His fingers crawled along his side and rested on his hips. They weren't stationed there very long before they were sliding along his front and across John's stomach and trying to slip under his shirt. As his hands continued to wander, his mouth got busy biting into John's neck. He hummed in contentment which sent a buzz pulsing up John's neck and down his spine.

"Eric..." John slowly managed to breathe out.

"John..." Eric sluggishly replied, smiling. "John, I want you so badly..."

"Eric..." John's voice trailed off

"John..."

Eric slid his hands downward when John finally caught his hands. "Eric!" His tone changed. "T-too fast sorry."

John pushed himself away from Eric and went back to fixing the tea. Eric placed his hands on either side of the counter where John was working, seemingly blocking his escape. "John." Eric rested his head against his boyfriend's back. "This isn't about going too fast or slow is it?"

"I told you Eric its a little too fast. We've only been dating for a few weeks."

"And you've knows Sherlock for a few years." Eric continued. "I can't compete with that can I?"

"You're not competing Eric." John reassured him.

"You know I am." Eric paused. "You talk about him everyday John. You light up whenever I ask and you've never once brightened that way while talking about me."

John turned in the small space Eric had left him with and looked him in the eyes. "Eric I-"

"It's okay. It was probably a bad idea to try and triumph over the great Sherlock Holmes." Eric took his hands away from the counter and rested them on John's hips once again.

"I'll miss you a lot though John." Eric pulled John in for a kiss. The kiss felt sad and empty, but John pressed his hands against Eric's chest all the same.

When they pulled away Eric leaned into John's ear and faintly whispered, "At least I got to put on a show for him. I bet he's real jealous now."

"What?" John looked confused.

"Good luck John Watson." Eric pulled away from his ear and that's when John saw it.

Sherlock was standing in the front room, a file of papers and pictured in one hand and a pen in the other. Neither were moving as Sherlock was just staring. there was a look on his face John had never seen before. Eric then promptly left, not even saying goodnight, leaving John and Sherlock in a awkward silence.


	7. Jealousy is Messy

"Sherlock..."

Sherlock didn't answer, he simply turned back to the case file in his hand. Sherlock was married to his work.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock quickly passed John, who had started to walk towards him. John was trying hard not to let his lip quiver. He bit at it roughly. "Sherlock." John tried again pathetically. "Sherlock please."

"What do you want John?" Sherlock had opened the fridge and was poking through various jars and bags he'd stored in it.

"Sherlock can you just look at me?"

"I'm busy." Sherlock still wouldn't turn around.

John drew in a long breath, trying to calm himself. It wasn't manly to cry. He didn't even think it was worth crying over. "Have-" John interrupted himself with a sniffle. "Have you ever wanted to cry over something stupid?"

"I've never cried." Sherlock harshly replied.

"Would it bother you if I did?"

_That_ got Sherlock's attention.

He placed the contents in his hands down on the counter, where they pushed against the various test tubes and other strange tools Sherlock would use to experiment with frequently. When he turned towards John, he noticed the bit lip right off the bat. He noticed the tears in his eyes threatening to fall. Most of all however, he noticed the tiny bite marks carved into John's neck. Sherlock's eyebrows twisted in displeasure.

Sherlock started to slowly walk over to his blogger. The one that he'd left all alone for a long time. The one who believed he was dead. John had always been there, John had a good heart and always tried to be useful. He was Sherlock's only friend. Sherlock drew in a breath when he finally reached John.

When Sherlock's hand reached out to meet the side of John's face, John looked up into the detective's eyes. Sherlock traced over the bites with his hand. He drew in another sharp breath as he noticed John's concerned look. "Sherlock its-"

John was interrupted by the sensation of teeth on his neck. Sherlock held firmly to John's shoulders and worked on covering Eric's marks with his own. To his delight, a whimper came from John. Sherlock found himself wanting to hear more. John gripped at Sherlock's shirt, "Sh-Sherlock? What are you?"

Sherlock moved his lips up towards John's ear, nibbling on his earlobe and smiling when he earned another whimper. Sherlock drew back and looked John in the face. "I'm not good at expressing myself, and I hate saying unnecessary things... But I'm warning you John. My jealousy is messy."


	8. I Love You

**Look away children! If you're not supposed to be reading this part please go the next chapter ^.^**

John did his best to cling onto Sherlock as he lifted John off his feet, heading for his bedroom. "Sherlock! What are you doing?"

Sherlock however, didn't reply to John's anxious questions, he just kept strutting confidently onward. When they finally reached Sherlock's bedroom, John was almost _violently_ tossed onto the large bed. As he started to sit up, he was interrupted by Sherlock's body, hovering over him. For a while the two just sat like that, John trying to support himself against his elbows and Sherlock slipping his knee in between John's legs and rested his hands on the bed at either side of him.

"Sherlock what-"

John eyes widened as he let out a gasp just before Sherlock met his lips. The longer they kissed, the more John could feel Sherlock pushing against him and his arms starting to weaken. Sherlock's tongue ran along the top of John's bottom lip, demanding access. When the kissing became more vigorous, John gave up, letting his arms relax and his back fall against the soft bed. Gasping, the two finally broke apart, "Sher-" John tried to catch his breath, "Sherlock..."

Taking that as an initiative, Sherlock rested his head against his blogger's forehead. "Eric is going to be disappointed when he finds that his boyfriend has been messing around with his flat-mate don't you think?" A smirk crossed his lips.

"No actually..."

Sherlock looked puzzled.

"We broke up... It- it wasn't working." John lied.

Sherlock pulled John's arms up around his neck, snaking his own down around John's back. "Good." Sherlock pecked another kiss on John's lips, "Because I don't plan on letting you go again."

John moaned with pleasure as Sherlock lifted his shirt off and started nibbling at one of John's nipples. John raked his finger's through his lover's raven black curls, letting them slip down to Sherlock's shoulders when he starting fumbling with their belt buckles.

Sherlock pushed his hand up against John's erection, taking pleasure in hearing him whimper. His lips captured John's in lust. John gasped as he felt Sherlock's skin brush teasingly against his now exposed cock, instead of settling for the pressure through denim. "Sherlock!"

Sherlock smiled devilishly. "Have you done this with anyone else John?"

"N-No..." he gushed.

"What about _Eric_?" Sherlock disliked the taste of his name in his mouth.

"No..." John gripped eagerly at Sherlock's shirt, feeling the need to cling.

"Good." Sherlock took firm hold now and began slowly pumping it. "No one is allowed to see you like this but me."

He loved hearing John's frequent whimpers, and the tug of his hands onto his clothes. Sherlock stopped only to remove his shirt, and fully slide John's pants down his legs, tossing them carelessly behind him into the floor. John was bashful and slightly embarrassed. He was older then Sherlock and felt like he was at a bit of a disadvantage when it came to how John looked naked compared to the consulting detective. He covered his face with his hands and closed his legs tightly.

Sherlock paused, wondering if maybe he'd just misread the whole situation and John was having second thoughts. No, that wasn't it. Sherlock noticed John trying to hide himself more by pulling up one of the sheets over his stomach. He couldn't help but chuckle when he finally figured it out.

Sherlock grabbed the hand that held the sheets, guiding it up over John's head. Sherlock leaned in and rested his head against John's, smiling and making sure he couldn't hide anymore. He placed a tender kiss on John's forehead, "You're beautiful John."

John blushed violently. "Okay... who are you and what have you done with Sherlock?" Even though he said that, Sherlock could tell he'd restored his blogger's confidence.

Sherlock captured John mouth again, guiding John's hands around his neck, encouraging him to hang onto him. His own hand started to snake down John's body, eager to continue. The next few minutes consisted of John thrusting into Sherlock's hand, and biting his lip when he finally gave a glace towards the other buldge Sherlock had been ignoring.

John took his hands away from Sherlock's neck and reached down himself, pressing into Sherlock, gushing when he got a reaction. John started to slowly unzip his trousers and pull it out. His eyes widened when he realized just how big Sherlock really was. John squirmed a bit when he realized that it was going to have to-

"John." Sherlock interrupted his train of thought. "I can't promise it won't hurt considering him larger then the average male in this aspect," John felt a little angry that Sherlock was talking like he always does, kind of cold but... " But I promise I'll make it as easy as possibly I can for you. If it hurts too much just say and I'll stop immediately." Sherlock comforted. It was out of character and weird to John.

But, that was the thing about Sherlock, he was always pretending he really didn't care about anyone, but really, his usual way of expressing himself just made it sound that way. Telling Molly that her boyfriend was gay came out harsh, but it wasn't meant that way.

_"Just saving her time, isn't that kinder?"_

John frowned when he remembered Moriarty hitting on Sherlock multiple times. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock again and pulled him down into a hug. "Mine." It just sort of came out, it wasn't really intended, just a thought that sneakily made its way out of his brain and across his lips. Sherlock was frozen, just looking at John with surprise. "Uh... Sorry I.. I just-"

Sherlock was already on him again, kissing him with passion, drawing away only to let their saliva drench a few of his fingers. John gulped nervously, but squealed with pleasure as Sherlock eventually found that little magic spot, his twisting fingers deep inside John.

When John had been loosened up, Sherlock cupped his face gently, "You alright?" John nodded.

Sherlock slowly pushed into John, furrowing his eyebrows when John gripped at him violently, digging his nails into his back. He was still for a few moments, letting John get used to the feeling before he slowly pulled out again. When he plunged back into John, he aimed for that little magic spot he'd found earlier, happy when he'd hit it.

"Sherlock!" John gasped.

As Sherlock continued thrusting into John, slowly unwinding, he felt John's breath in his ear, whispering softly. "I love you Sherlock"

Sherlock lost it and climaxed together with John.


	9. I'd Be Lost Without My Blogger

When John woke the next morning, he was warmly nuzzled into Sherlock's arms, the sheet wrapped around them tightly and the sun just barely peering through the partially closed blinds. John looked up at Sherlock's sleeping face and smiled.

"You really are a handful"

"Apparently also an _arse_ full." Sherlock retorted jokingly.

John gasped when he realized Sherlock was awake. He punched his chest lightly. Sherlock leaned in slowly and placed a soft kiss on John's forehead, smiling when John shurt his eye, enjoying the warmth. When John started to aim himself for Sherlock's lips, he sadly found they'd disappeared. Sherlock was up and starting to dress. John had slumped into the bed, feeling the after affects of the night before.

"Will you be alright to come to the investigation today?" Sherlock asked, noticing John's motions.

"I can come? You're not still.. you know..."

Sherlock shrugged into his long coat and started to tie his scarf, "Of course not. After all..."

Sherlock tossed a few of John's clothes at him, "I'd be lost without my blogger." ;)


End file.
